


Bratwurst and Baguettes

by jih3k



Category: One Piece
Genre: AU, Anal Play, Blood Kink, Burnplay, Food Kink, M/M, No Lube, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rope Bondage, SBS, Sounding, Torture, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-18 23:05:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14862020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jih3k/pseuds/jih3k
Summary: Oda stated that if One Piece were set in the real world, Sanji would be French and Law would be German. Just wanted to play around with that idea!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a little rusty ><

The Straw Hats were holed up in the Polar Tang with their newfound ally Law and his Heart Pirates. Being on a submarine was the epitome of boring. Tensions were high between the two pirate crews, and some of them paired off to release their pent-up frustrations.

Law himself had taken a fancy to Sanji, the lanky French chef. His mind tended to race when he started thinking about how flexible the blond must be.

But how to approach him? The French certainly enjoyed baking bread, something that Law was vehemently against. He also had yelled at the ero-cook multiple times for slipping umeboshi into his onigiri, to which Sanji had responded that he had made them as a replacement for bread out of the kindness of his heart.

Maybe Law would start with telling Sanji that he was, in fact, grateful for the adjustments to the gallery menu. The other members of the Straw Hat crew seemed to take him for granted, since Law never once heard any of them say thank you for the meal. Fucking ingrates.

Law made his way to the kitchen, hoping that the long-legged beauty would be there. He was. Sanji was leaning up against the pantry door, smoking a long, slim cigarette with his eyes closed in what could only be described as ecstasy.

Long drag, long expulsion of smoke.

The ex-Warlord stared at the scene in front of him, watching Sanji’s chest expand as he took a drag. His gaze shifted upward as the cook exhaled, and he watched those perfect lips form a circle as soft, billowing smoke escaped from them.

Suddenly he realized that cold, grey eyes had met his gaze. Sanji glared at him, unblinking for what seemed like an eternity, the cigarette between his fingers slowly burning away.

Law could cut the tension with his sword. He could tell that everyone on the ship was bored being cooped up underwater in a tin can, but he had no idea how to read Sanji. He tentatively began closing in on the slim man in front of him, testing his reaction. Sanji slowly lowered his cigarette as Law approached, but his eyes narrowed with each step of the tattooed man. Both were wary of the other, and unable to judge the situation they had found themselves in.

Sanji eyed the Surgeon of Death up and down as he stalked within inches of his personal space. His eyes remained narrowed and unsure, but he could sense Law’s trepidation along with his increased heart rate and breathing.

Law sized up the cook as well. The blond was standing slightly crouched, mouth agape; it was a position that the older man construed as being one of pure confusion. He would use this to his advantage.

He knew that Sanji, being French, would be quick to surrender.

Law tested the waters, reaching out his spindly, tattooed hand to cup Sanji’s face, and closed in on the shorter Frenchman. He wrapped his arms around the tiny waist and locked the other man in an embrace. Sanji let out a stifled moan, and ultimately melted into the darker man’s arms. Their lips met, a mess of wetness and heat, that aroused the most primal instinct in them.

Tongues intertwined as hands wandered. Law’s fingers traveled down the tailored suit of the man in his grasp, eventually landing on muscular thighs. He clamped down on Sanji’s mouth in a euphoric state, as he lifted the blond up into his arms and set him on the adjacent counter.

Law was unaware and unable to care about anything other than what his own body was doing, but he could hear the clatter. Something had been knocked off the counter in their makeout session. He pulled away from Sanji’s wet mouth long enough to confirm there were potatoes all around them.

An out-of-breath Law managed to gasp, “Vatch out for die kartoffels.”

Sanji pulled back, seemingly annoyed. “Zis is un fucking pomme de terre.”

Law was so turned on by Sanji’s anger he pulled him into another kiss, the momentum of which pushed Sanji into an unnatural arch against the counter. Law took advantage of the cook’s position and freed his hands to pull the blond’s pants down.

Sanji’s member was rock-hard at this point, and he was getting impatient, though he had no idea how to admit that he wanted it hard from the tall, dark, and handsome ex-Warlord currently ravishing his nipples with an obedient mouth.

Sanji finally managed to find words. “Do you ave any of zee, ow do you call eet, slimy substance?"

Law looked up from Sanji’s left nipple. "Das lube," he murmured, before steeling away and searching the kitchen for some oil.

And then they fucked. Hard.


	2. Das Eichhörnchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a prequel to Chapter 1.

The Straw-Hat Heart Alliance had been beyond lucky after escaping from Totto Land. The enormous elephant that carried the Kingdom of Zou on its back just happened to be wandering the sea nearby. Law had his crew dock their submarine at the base of one of the massive legs and set out for the surface.

With everything that had happened in the previous months, Law found himself missing the troubled Frenchman Sanji, and he was glad to have him back in the crew. The first thing he wanted to do was somehow express this, but he had no idea how.

No, wait, he did. A picnic.

The cook loved food, obviously. So what better way to cheer him up and also reveal how much Law had missed him than with a meal. But what to make? The damn French loved their bread, but he couldn’t palate it. The only thing German and French food had in common was… kartoffels.

Law decided to make a mean German potato salad, paired with wine for the blond and beer for himself. He quickly returned to the Polar Tang’s galley to whip up the food as quickly as possible before Sanji regressed into a pit of despair from his early actions against the Straw Hat crew.

Roughly thirty minutes later it was ready, and even Law himself was shocked at the quality. Maybe some of the ero-cook qualities rubbed off on him in more ways than one, if you know what I mean.

He placed the salad in a basket, grabbed beer from the fridge and wine from the cabinet, and headed back up into the forest of Zou.

The Straw Hats were doing their own thing relaxing after Whole Cake Island, and Law nodded curtly at each of them that wasn’t Sanji as he walked past. Luffy was engorged with meat, Franky was drowning in cola, and Brook was harassing Robin to see her panties as a “reward for escaping Big Mom intact”.

Finally, he found Sanji, leaning against a log, deep in thought, watching some squirrels forage for nuts.

Law breathed in deeply, then tentatively approached the abrasive cook. Once he got close enough, he could see Sanji glaring at him, but he ignored it and set the picnic basket down between them, and sat cross-legged to the right of the other man.

Silence ensued for what seemed like hours, until Law finally managed to utter, “I made you some kartoffel salad.”

The blond began to object, but Law pulled the wine out of the basket and use Chambres to pull the cork out expertly, then poured it into a plastic cup and passed it to Sanji without a word. Begrudgingly, the cook took the cup and continued to glare at Law as he popped open the tab on his heathen canned beer.

The Surgeon of Death raised his can, inviting Sanji to do the same. “Prost!” he said, while slamming the can against the plastic cup.

“À votre santé…” the blond responded unenthusiastically.

Sanji sipped his wine with the fervor of a child suffering meningitis. Law found himself sighing in disappointment at his inability to get the man of his dreams to be more receptive, and he turned away from the depressing scene to watch the squirrels continue their foraging.

Without thinking, he quipped, “Die... skraya? Are very hard vorker. Like German peoples.”

Sanji had his cup at his lips as Law said this, but he stopped in an instant, and slowly lowered his hand as he turned incredulously toward the dark-haired man to his right.

“Ze what?” he said.

Law was taken aback by Sanji’s sudden change in tone. Was he being mocked?

“The… sqvarls?” he squeaked.

Sanji’s expression was unchanging as he prodded further. “Try again.”

“Skerl?”

“Non.”

“Skwerril?”

“Non.”

“Skwale?”

“Wat is zis skwale?” Suddenly Sanji did the unthinkable and laughed. Law was unsure how to feel, since he knew he was being mocked, but at the same time was relieved to see the cook being able to let loose.

Law was glad to see the blond smile, and he continued to mispronounce “squirrel” as much as possible to get the other man to laugh as much as possible.


	3. Kartoffel-Flavored Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Law manages to woo Sanji but Zoro interrupts.

Law's picnic was a success. Or so he thought. A small hitch in that, being German, he had the inability to say the word "squirrel." But he decided to use it to his advantage to make his move.

“Ze what?” Sanji looked incredulous at the horrid sound that had come out of Law's mouth. Several more attempts later and he was surprised with the Frenchman bursting out in laughter. He rarely saw Sanji smile, and he was hooked on making him do it more.

Law pointed at the furry creature scurrying around in front of them. “Das is skerl, ja?” He moved a little closer to Sanji as he said this.

The blond was staring ahead, sipping red wine. He laughed again, turning to Law. "Where did vous learn such, ah, owdoyousay, terribluh Anglais?"

Moving steadily closer and now finding himself staring at Sanji's lips as he derided him like only the French can, Law replied, "Vat is wrong about die skwerrils?"

Sanji turned to face the dark-haired German, now inches from his own face. Their eyes met, temporarily stunning Law. Embarrassed he blurted out, "You know Jacques Cousteau, ja?"

Confused, the blond man stared, trying to figure out where this non-sequitur came from. "I know of zis man. Why?"

"I admire him," Law continued. "Very hardvorking man. Plus..." Law began moving closer again, this time determined. "I vant to go as deep as he has."

Sanji's breath quickened, but he remained transfixed on the golden eyes growing ever closer. He could hear Law's breathing, ragged with nervousness. The older man came close enough that the cook could feel his heat. Law hesitated for a second, brows furrowing in an unfamiliar way. Seeing the Warlord so unsure of himself gave Sanji an unexpected jump in heart rate.

That second of hesitation seemed a lifetime, while Sanji's eyes fluttered closed involuntarily. Law exhaled deeply, then finally made his uncooperative body move the final inch forward. Their lips meant tentatively, the Straw Hat Pirate's mouth slightly open in anticipation, while the Heart Pirate's lips were pursed closed, seemingly in inexperience. Sanji picked up on this, and moved forward, using the log for balance as he reached out a hand and grabbed Law's shoulder.

Law reflexively parted his lips. He allowed the younger man to temporarily take control. Sanji's tongue flitted into Law's mouth, and the Surgeon of Death could taste the red wine and kartoffels. The taste of the long-legged cook was overwhelming, and it managed to embolden the trepid devil fruit user. He finally responded to the intrusion between his lips, darting out his tongue to clash with the Vinsmoke family failure's own, their flesh wrestling inside their heated mouths.

The Straw Hat-Heart Pirate Alliance affiliate broke from the kiss to gasp, "Blackleg-ja..."

Sanji's expression became wanton, and the Straw Hat cook turned groom-to-be to the Big Mom Pirates inhaled sharply. "Kuso-doctor. Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?"

The descendant of the D had no idea what the fuck the Frenchman just said, but it turned him on. Gathering up all of his wayward confidence, he reached out and clasped his hands around the back of the shitty cook's neck and went in deep for a kiss.

"おい。何やってんだお前ら！？"

Startled by the sound, Pudding's fiance and the ope ope no mi user broke apart and glared at the source. Zoro stood in front of them, where the sqvarls had been, stance akimbo and expression filled with utter revulsion.

"ふざけんな。このエロホモたち！！"

The cook and the doctor (not Chopper one) slid apart against the log, embarrassed by the intrusion. Sanji knew Marimo was just jealous, but he had no way to convey that to Law at the moment. Instead the two of them reddened as Zoro hurled insults at them.

"クソコック！！エロ医師！！死ね！！" With that outburst, Zoro kicked the log the two potential lovers were leaning against.

Incensed, Sanji reacted, "Oi! Stupid Marimo! Wat is ze problem?!"

"Ja," Law chimed him. "Have das kartoffel and calmen down."

"何言ってんだ、落ち着くわけねぇんだけど！クソコックはおれのもんだぜ！！"

With that, the berserk swordsman took the butt of his sword and knocked the Donquixote Pirate defector out.


	4. Trollonoro Zoro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter (maybe)

Law slowly began to drift into consciousness. His first sense awakened was smell; the multi-layered fragrances of the kitchen met his nostrils and mingled with something metallic. The second sense was sound, as his ears picked up on something frying on the stove. Confusion set in as the Surgeon of Death struggled to open his eyes to the next sense, sight. His eyes remained unfocused as his head lolled to the side, but one shape was recognizable. In front of him stood Zoro. Law jerked himself out of his stupor and attempted to stand, only to realize he had been bound to a chair with butcher's twine. Naked.

Zoro sneered, turning temporarily to give a quick shake to what was in the frying pan. Then he turned back around, leaning closer to the darker-haired man's face. Law remained surprisingly calm, though if his heart could be heard at the moment, it would beget his panic.

"It took you long enough to come to." The swordsman leered at Law, watching as bewilderment took hold of the ex-Warlord's psyche and sunk in deep.

"I see you can shpeak English now, ja?" His voice was shaking more than he would have liked.

Zoro straightened up and silently extended his left arm towards the galley door. Law's head instinctively followed, and his gaze met Sanji's. The blond cook was gagged with cheesecloth, and similarly bound to a chair, only fully clothed. His chair was askew on the back two legs, with the top of the chair hooked under the doorknob, serving as a barricade. Sanji's curly brows were furrowed, more in concern than fear or anger.

Law's very nature was one of calm, cool, and calculating, but this situation was testing everything he had. All this because of a picnic and some kartoffels?

His gaze returned to the green-haired man. Zoro had been tending to the frying pan with chopsticks, but placed them down and opened the utensil drawer. He rummaged through it for a moment, before grabbing it with both hands and pulling it out in one swift movement. The contents clattered on the floor, making Law flinch. He glanced over at Sanji again, who seemed calmer than the situation called for.

Law watched Zoro crouch down and dig through the contents of the utensil drawer. He could confirm with a glance that the knives were absent and he let out a short sigh of relief. But his relief soon turned to panic again as the swordsman's calloused hands reached for the most barbaric looking instrument. It was some sort of roller, except protruding from every angle were stainless steel spikes.

"Vat the fuck is that?" Law could barely hide his panic now, since he was unfamiliar with the tools of the chef trade, and could only imagine worse things than what the other pirate held in his hand.

Zoro looked amused. "I have no idea," he said as he turned to Sanji by the door. "You know what this is, yeah, shitty cook?"

Sanji nodded solemnly as the green-haired man walked over to him. "This will be more fun if you can talk." He ripped the cheesecloth out of the blond's mouth and waited for an answer.

"Zis is a roller docker. For ze pastry."

The Surgeon of Death was taken aback by how little this situation seemed to be affecting his beau-to-be. Confused and a little hurt, his eyes remained on Sanji as Zoro made his way back to the older man.

"Normally, I'd go all out straight from the start, but I'd rather tease your boyfriend over there. So let's see what this does." Zoro raked the strange metal utensil against Law's bare chest. The spikes were not quite sharp, so the sensation was more uncomfortable than pain. Zoro quickly realized this, though, and applied pressure, digging the metal spikes into flesh as he drew the utensil across tattooed skin. Law winced, but the pain was nothing compared to having his entire fucking arm cut off. Bright red blood welled up from the small puncture wounds.

Zoro studied the effect of the instrument in his hand for a few seconds, then set his sights on a different body part. A more sensitive body part.

While looking Law dead in the eyes, he placed the roller against the inside of his thigh. The Heart Pirate used every ounce of his resolve not to let Zoro see how panicked he really was, but he could not conceal the sudden quickness in his breathing. The swordsman was deliberately hesitating, seemingly able to taste the salty sweat of the compromised doctor and relishing in the trepidation he was making the other man feel.

Unmoving, Zoro began to swipe the spiked roller towards Law's inner thigh. His movement was slow and deliberate and he applied ample pressure to draw blood and a reaction from the darker-haired man. Law sharply drew in his breath and held it, determined not to make any more noise. The metal dug into the sensitive skin, making his leg feel on fire. As the spikes encroached on an even more off-limit zone, Law struggled to compose himself.

The many metal fingers inched closer to his cock, a feeling that was more embarrassing than painful. He tried to endure, tried not to let his captor have the last laugh.

Suddenly, Zoro's face moved within inches to his own. He could smell the whiskey on the younger man's breath. The Straw Hat remained fixated on Law's eyes as he dug in deeper with the utensil in hand, barely hiding his smirk as he watched Law try in vain not to react. The ex-Warlord sucked in his breath through his teeth, as the kitchen utensil made its way closer to his unmentionables. He could feel the warmth of his own blood as it trickled down his thigh. It was too much to bear.

"Please," he gasped. "Please, don't..."

Zoro almost lost his composure from the reaction. The stern doctor losing his cool. It was exactly what he wanted, yet he had much more planned, and decided to oblige the begging. He stopped moving the roller while it was mere inches from its intended target and pulled it away, throwing it unceremoniously to the floor.

Turning back to the stove, Zoro quipped "I almost forgot about the furaido poteto." He shuffled the frying pan quickly, then picked out the crisp, golden potatoes and placed them into a dish. Without hesitation, he turned towards Law, still holding the pan, and a wicked smile crossed his face.

"I know you like potatoes. How would you like to feel like one?"

Law braced himself as he had no alternative. Zoro was deadset on making him suffer, and the last thing the honorary Straw Hat wanted to do was give him the satisfaction of showing real pain. But boy was that resolve going to be tested.

Zoro leaned over Law's chest, still welted from the medieval-looking utensil he chose first. Without a word, the swordsman tilted the pan, dripping hot oil onto open wounds.

The Surgeon of Death tensed his entire body, bracing for the pain. It took a few seconds for it to register; first he felt only warmth, then heat, then the searing molten madness of the oil against his bare skin. He let out a cry against his own will, but quickly forced his mouth closed. He tried to imagine the pain away, though his body spasmed as it tried to force away the sensation. The black-haired man kicked out involuntarily, catching his sadistic captor in the shin.

The Straw Hat first mate all but cackled. The sound would be terrifying to anyone in any situation, but to Law in this situation? It was a signature on his death warrant. He watched Zoro bend down to rummage through the displaced utensil drawer once again, on a mission this time. Moss-head found what he was looking for quickly: a wooden utensil, something that Law had seen before, when he wanted to make homemade limonade to go with his kartoffel salad.

At the thought of limonade, a word die Deutsch borrowed from ze Frogs, he remembered that Sanji was in the same room, bound as he was, and witnessing the torture he was going through. He glanced over at the cook, who was as calm as ever, and their eyes met. Sanji took a deep breath and said, "On ne passe pas."

"Vat?"

But Law did not have time to receive an answer, as Zoro lifted his legs, and pulled him forward out of the chair as far as the butcher's twine would allow. The action rendered his ass exposed, and the green-haired man did not hesitate in jamming the citrus reamer into his ass, dry.

Law screamed, as the pain was more unbearable than the cutting or burning of flesh. He had never been a bottom before, and to be violated by a simple wooden tool by a directionless asshole who thought green was a good color was more than the dark doctor was willing to put up with. But Zoro was apparently skilled with topping. He angled the tool in such a way that it hit a spot within Law which, if he knew it had existed before, he would have used his devil power to pull it out and replaced with any other body part. The mixed sensation of excruciating pain and unexperienced pleasure caused a rift within Law's psyche. His body said yes, but his mind said no.

Zoro was bemused at the swiftly hardening erection of the tied-up Surgeon of Death before him. Finally, he had managed to overcome the barriers the older man had in place, and had broken him down into his animalistic nature. Now to have fun with it.

He left the citrus reamer where it was, and returned again to the kitchen utensils strewn across the floor. More deliberate now as he rummaged. After a minute or two he found exactly what he was looking for. Metal, thin, unassuming; had the two of them been cooking, Law would have thought nothing of the simple tool Zoro was holding out in front of him. But in this space, in this time, his imagination ran wild, and nothing he imagined could be less fucked up than what the swordsman actually had planned.

Turning back to his captive, Zoro remained expressionless as he eyed the trussing needle in his hand. "I can't say I've ever done this before," he said in a low voice. "I guess we'll just have to see how it goes, ne?" He knelt down on both knees, and sized up Law's quivering member.

Zoro placed his left hand on the shaft, the callouses adding to the unprovoked arousal Law was feeling. The doctor forced himself to think of everything nonsexy: baseball, Big Mom, feelings. But to no avail. His body was betraying him, as his dick grew even harder at the touch. He watched, mute, as the first-mate-except-not-really aimed the trussing needle at his cock.

The needle found its way to the slick entrance. While Law anticipated force and more pain, he was shocked to realize that Zoro was taking his gotdamn time. He edged the needle into Law's hole gently, trying to provoke a different reaction from the devil fruit user. The sensation of the cold metal was jarring, but not painful. Law eased into the feeling, and Zoro slowly eased the metal tool deeper into his dick.

Law realized that he had been inadvertently holding his breath. He let out air, and paused, only to have his heightened senses pick up on loud breathing that was not his own. He glanced over at Sanji again, who seemed to be enjoying the show. The blond's erection was clearly visible in his tight pants.

Distracted by the sight of the ero-cook, Law was taken by surprise by what Zoro did next. He leaned into Law's cock and licked up the precum spreading around the trussing needle. Law hissed and then sighed. He no longer had any idea what was going on.

Just as quickly as Zoro had started this perverted play, he pulled the makeshift sounding rod out of Law, and walked over to Sanji. He utilized his three-sword-style training to turn the trussing needle into a blade, and slashed the cook out of his bonds. "Do what you want to him" was the only thing he said.

Sanji's eyes glossed over; he had been given permission to do what he most desired. He made his way over to Law and stood before his suitor. "Zis is what I always wanted" was all he said before he tore off his clothes and climbed onto the German man's lap.

"S'il vous plaît, do not hate moi," he said as he placed himself over Law's weeping cock. The Surgeon of Death had nothing to say, as he was too bewildered by the situation. This is ultimately what he wanted, but at what cost? His mind raced as Sanji lowered himself onto Law.

This was.

Bullshit.

Law was unprepared.

This isn't fair.

What the fuck.

Sanji bounced up and down on the ex-Warlord's dick only a few times before the man could not stand it anymore. He came violently, yelling "I'm daddy COOL" before passing out from the overstimulation.

The blond cook just stared at his reluctant lover, limp dick in ass, and said, "What ze fuck?"


End file.
